


Unanswered

by JPA



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: ? - Freeform, Angst, Break Up, Complicated Relationships, Depression, Emotional Hurt, Hurt Stiles, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Infidelity, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Mental Breakdown, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-08 21:16:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13466700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JPA/pseuds/JPA
Summary: “Where was I?” Stiles demands. His eyes are wet with unshed tears, refusing to let Peter see him cry.  “When you were with him—when he was touching you? Where was I?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Me? Posting more angst? Of course. 
> 
> I'm trying to write for different pairings, but I just can't stop writing for this one. Anyway, I actually combined two fics to make this one fic, so here ya go! Hope you like it! It's OK to cry! 
> 
> Unbeta'd!

“Why did you do it?” Stiles asks, voice shaking.

Peter’s gaze is the epitome of apathy as he stays silent, an air of indifference surrounding him. His head is held high, and he stands stock still. Despite his statue-like frame, he does not seem uncomfortable or troubled. It eats at Stiles like a starved animal that finally caught its prey.

“Where was I?” Stiles demands. His eyes are wet with unshed tears, refusing to let Peter see him ugly cry.  “When you were with him—when he was _touching_ you? Where was I?”

“Does it matter?” Peter questions, tilting his head.

Stiles’ lips are trembling and his face crumbles. He turns away quickly, hoping Peter can’t see how emotional he’s getting. It barely registers that it doesn’t matter what Peter sees—Peter can scent Stiles’ emotions, can feel them in the air.

Stiles wishes he had enough strength to mask his hurt.

“Do I matter?” Stiles whispers, wrapping his arms around himself. “Did I ever?”

Peter huffs, “That’s not for me to decide. You’re the only person who gets to decide your own worth. My actions don’t dictate if you matter or not.”

“I hate you.”

“No,” Peter says, amused, “you don’t.”

Stiles refuses Peter to get him even more worked up than he already is. He could leave, but he knows that’s what Peter most likely wants.

Stiles is being pushed away, and it feels like there’s nothing he can do about it. He feels cornered, even though he is the one that cornered Peter. He does not understand why this was happening to him. He does not understand Peter’s motive.

“Why?” Stiles says, voice weak. He can barely comprehend his own voice. His vision is swimming and his chest feels tight. There’s nothing he wants more than for this to be over.

Peter moves to stand by the counter, grabbing a cup from the cupboard and then moving to the fridge to grab the orange juice. As he pours the juice into the cup, Stiles can’t help but feel like he’s not being taken seriously.

Even though he knows it won’t help the situation, he blows up.

Knocking the glass out of Peter’s hands is the first thing Stiles does. He doesn’t regret it immediately, like he would have before he’d started dating Peter. A flash of annoyance crosses Peter’s face, which only fuels Stiles’ wrath.

Stiles shoves Peter, screaming. He doesn’t know what he’s saying—he can’t see or think or do anything except scream. He’s overcome with a rage he’s never felt before.

After a while, the rage turns into disbelief, and then that disbelief turns into a deep sorrow. Stiles is overcome with all of these emotions, overwhelmed.

Throughout all of it, Peter seems unaffected and uncaring.

Peter watches as Stiles cradles his head in his hands.

Peter acts as if nothing is happening as Stiles screams at the top of his lungs.

Peter stands back as Stiles leans against the counter, sobbing.

“Get it out of here,” the boy croaks slowly, pointing at Peter. The boy is practically heaving, twitching as he grips onto whatever is in front of him. His eyes are wild, wide and bloodshot.

Peter’s name is unspoken, hanging in the air. Stiles does not feel inclined to look at the man, much less utter the man’s name. He only waits for Peter to leave, staring down at his hands.

The open door of the kitchen is shut quietly. The sound of the front door also shutting makes Stiles flinch. The sound bites into Stiles, and he imagines this is what it feels like when salt is being rubbed into an open wound.

It’s the silence that calms Stiles down. He doesn’t know how long he stands at the counter, blindly staring ahead. He’s lost in thought, barely able to stand upright.

He eventually moves from the kitchen to the bathroom. He manages to climb into the tub and turn on the shower. The spray of cold water does nothing to snap Stiles out of the deep pit that he’s fallen into. After going through a series of intense emotions, it feels as if he’s too drained to feel anything at all.

The need to scream and cry is gone. All that’s left of what happened is Stiles’ confusion over the situation. Why had Peter done it? Was Stiles not enough? Did Stiles not matter to Peter?

It’s only when Stiles’ phone starts to ring that he realizes he’s been in the shower for hours. The water is freezing against his skin, yet Stiles isn’t shivering.

He’s undone, he realizes as he gets out of the tub. He’s spiraling into a darkness he hasn’t experienced since after he was possessed. There’s nothing he can do to stop this downward spiral. There is no resolving something like this.

He’s going to fall apart, he knows. When the numbness passes, he’s going to break into a million pieces.

He’s hollowed out, gutted. He knows that, to some, his reaction is dramatic and problematic. He knows that this isn’t the end of the world. To him, it was worse than the end of the world. It was the end of Peter’s love, and that was something Stiles knew he’d never get over.

* * *

Later that day, Stiles sits outside in the chilly air. He is in his backyard, merely existing with the grass and the plastic lawn decorations that he’d put up early in the summer.

His eyes are fixed towards the sky, but he’s not looking at anything. He’s not gazing up at the stars, like he once had with Peter. Brown irises meld into the blanket of darkness that the night brings, glazed over with something akin to loss.

“Was I not enough?”

He is left unanswered. Mother Moon glares down at him pityingly, her icy stare digging into his skin like sharpened claws. Her judgement is silent and cold, but Stiles swears he can hear a chorus of screams as he burns alive.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I heavily advise that you look at the tags before reading this chapter! If you want to know specifically what happens, I'll put it in the end notes! 
> 
> This is unbeta'd! I am so, so sorry that this took forever! There is another little puzzle in this! Read downwards if you want to find it. It's in the first section and starts in the second paragraph! :) I'm sorry this took so long to write! I'm very sick, and I also had an exam this week! 
> 
> Unbeta'd!!! Sorry for any mistakes!

Stiles can’t help but imagine what had went on the night Peter cheated. He can’t help but wonder how Peter had been touched by someone else, had felt pleasure by someone else’s hands. Vivid scenes of wandering hands and desperate lips force their way into Stiles head, making his heart clench.

What had occurred that night, and what had Peter been thinking? Had Stiles even crossed his mind, or was he just an afterthought?

Stiles both is and is not ready to accept the fact that Peter didn’t care—doesn’t care about him. Peter’s actions showed his lack of devotion, but maybe he’d been drunk. Maybe Peter hadn’t realized that what he was doing would hurt Stiles. They had never talked about being exclusive, after all. Maybe it was Stiles’ fault for assuming Peter was his and his alone.

Whatever the case, Peter is gone, and Stiles doesn’t know what’s going to happen to their relationship. He imagines it’s over, after his meltdown, but he can’t be for sure.

Stiles thinks about heading out and going to the Preserve. Stiles needed a peaceful place to think, or he’d never be able to clear his head. He couldn’t stop thinking about Peter, and maybe he’d be able to if he roamed the dark forest.

He’d promised to always stay with Peter, and to stand at the other man’s side until the very end. Peter had promised the same.

Why did this have to happen? Stiles had thought they were going to be happy and do the unimaginable, together. He had never imagined that things would turn out this way.

* * *

 

“I love you,” Stiles whispers, talking to an empty space. He stares ahead, looking through the windshield and into the street.

Rolling down the windows, Stiles has to squint as the wind beats at his face. It stings, the night air ice cold as it forces its way into the jeep and makes its presence known.

Stiles doesn’t mind the cold—the cold makes him feel something other than the agonizing ache in his chest. Without it, he feels like he’s going to be consumed by an overwhelming loss. It’s as if he’s stuck in a nightmare.

Soon, he’s going to drown out this senseless pain. He’s going to leave it all behind.

* * *

 

Stiles is being eaten alive. The water wraps around him, smoothly pressing against his body. Now, he is only waist deep, but he is slowly making his way toward the deeper end of the large pond. He’s half naked, skin tingling as it’s caressed by the freezing water.

When the water is up to Stiles’ neck, he stops. His eyes are closed, eyelids too heavy to open, and his mouth is clenched shut so that his teeth don’t chatter. He feels keeps still in the water, listening to the surrounding sounds.

The forest is peaceful, mostly quiet. There is a slight breeze, forcing the trees to shake their limps and shed their leaves.

Without another thought, Stiles takes another step. The water is now up to his chin, just below his lower lip. He takes another step, and his mouth is covered.

Stiles knows that there’s a drop off right in front of him. If he were to take one more step, he’d be fully submerged. He thinks about this, heart racing. The noise in his head—the ache in his chest—they’re gone. What would it feel like for everything to be gone? With that though, Stiles takes the final step.

* * *

 

Stiles is vaguely aware of being pulled out of the water. He hears a very pissed off voice, but he’s too out of it to really pay any attention to it.

Someone is choking on air, coughing out something, but he can’t tell who. He can’t open his eyes, can’t see what’s going on around him. The only thing he can do is dig his fingers into the ground beneath him, light headed and exhausted.

After a moment, he realizes that the person who’d been choking was him. The thought boggles him, making him even more confused than he already was.

“Wha—”

“Fuck! Shut up!” a familiar voice snarls. “I can’t believe you. Are you fucking stupid?”

“Pete—Peter,” Stiles chokes out, panting. He pries his eyes open, his vision swimming. He can see Peter, or, well, two or three Peters, standing above him.

He must be on his back, he realizes. He’s on the ground, on his back, and he’s staring at the man who’d cheated on him. He’s still alive.

“What is wrong with you?” Peter hisses, movements choppy. He takes off his jacket and throws it onto Stiles’ naked chest. He stares down at him as if expecting an actual response, but Stiles isn’t sure if he can even get up, much less answer questions or talk.

Stiles only stares up at the older man dumbly, his mind a muddled mess. What was Peter doing here anyway? Peter obviously didn’t care about him. Right? It didn’t make sense for him to know where Stiles was, or what Stiles had planned on doing. Whatever the case, Stiles needed to get up. He didn’t want Peter to think he was completely hopeless.

Stirring from where he is on the forest floor, Stiles struggles to sit up. Lethargically, he puts on the coat that Peter had thrown at him.

“I’m taking you home,” Peter grumbles out finally. He’d been silent, before Stiles had managed to move, and Stiles would have thought Peter had left if the other man had not been right in front of him.

The werewolf helps Stiles stand, gripping onto the younger man’s arm with a little too much force. Stiles only takes a few steps before stumbling, but Peter is there to keep him steady. In the end, Peter makes Stiles get on his back, too impatient to wait for the other to gather himself.

* * *

 

“Peter?” Stiles hums, eyes drooping. He’s in bed, dry and warm from being toweled down. When they’d first arrived at Stiles house, Peter had immediately sat Stiles on the toilet and made sure the human was dry.

Peter’s voice comes from the bathroom, “What is it?” He doesn’t sound annoyed or angry. Actually, he doesn’t sound like he’s feeling anything at all.

“Are you staying?” Stiles asks, quiet. He isn’t worried about Peter not being able to hear him, knowing that the werewolf would be able to hear him from anywhere in the house.

“Do you want me to stay?” Peter questions, sounding surprised.  

Stiles doesn’t answer him. He’s not sure what he wants, but he does know what he doesn’t want. He doesn’t want to never see Peter again, and he doesn’t want what happened to be the end of whatever they were.

“Stiles?”

“Huh?” Stiles croaks, his body feeling heavy with how tired he is. He blinks up at Peter as the werewolf sits on the edge of the bed and presses the back of his hand to Stiles’ forehead.

Peter shakes his head, frowning, “It’s nothing. Go to bed.”

Stiles is already halfway to dreamland, so he only nods and turns to lay on his side. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. Things would be figured out, but they’d have to be figured out another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning!!!
> 
> Stiles attempts to drown himself in this chapter! He's in a very fragile state and has a very negative mindset! 
> 
> Everyone deals with breakups in different ways. In this case, Peter was Stiles main support system and all of Stiles future plans revolved around Peter. In the last chapter (and this one), Stiles is having a metal breakdown because of the breakup. 
> 
> Anyways! Thanks for the read!

**Author's Note:**

> Did you cry? Did you like it? Hate it? Tell me!! 
> 
> Thanks for the read! Leave a kudos or comment ;) !


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